


Pillow Talk

by MirrorMystic



Series: Where The Lines Overlap [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Comedy, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: No one is as lucky as us.Five dorks have a sleepover, and talk about life, love... and sex. Mostly sex.





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> _No one is as lucky as us_   
>  _We're not at the end, but we've already won..._
> 
> In which the gang discusses scheduling and the Kinsey scale, Futaba continues to die of thirst, Ann demonstrates proper kabedon technique, and Shiho and Haru re-enact Kase-san. And don't worry- despite the title, and the summary, it never actually gets too explicit. I hope you all enjoy the read!

~*~  
  
“Hey,” Ryuji said softly. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. “What are you thinking about?”  
  
“Right now?” Akira lifted his head. He propped himself up on an elbow, lazily tracing a path along Ryuji’s abs and up his chest with a wandering fingernail.  
  
“...About how I’m pretty much the luckiest guy on the planet,” Akira breathed. “How about you?”  
  
Ryuji reached out and rested a hand on Akira’s ever-fluffy hair. He tugged him forward, smiling into the kiss. Ryuji chuckled. “...Same.”  
  
“This is sweet and all,” Ann smiled beside them, nuzzling her cheek into Ryuji’s shoulder, “but, uh, Ryuji? Is there any particular reason you took your shirt off?”  
  
Akira snorted, the moment lost. Ryuji rolled his eyes and shoved Ann away. Ann giggled and then yelped as she fell off the couch, snorting in laughter from the floor.  
  
They were in Ann’s living room, partaking in their new weekly ritual of Sleepover Saturday. Just as Akira had feared, months ago, when Makoto’s chart made the Thieves’ tangled web of relationships official, scheduling had become an issue. Getting eight college-aged kids all together in one room was a monumental undertaking.  
  
The solution, they discovered, was to simply make time where they could. Futaba, for instance, was trying to make Tabletop Tuesdays a thing. She’d whipped together a homebrew tabletop RPG, and last Tuesday, they’d all gotten together and spent an evening poring over character sheets. Stir-Fridays at Haru’s were becoming a thing, with Haru indulging Yusuke’s curiosity into the artistic side of cooking, and inviting anybody and everybody available to taste their fine work.  
  
Ann was the one who first suggested Sleepover Saturday. Getting all eight of them together was tricky, but three was perfectly manageable. And Ann always had time for her boys. (It also helped that Akira and Ryuji both worked together at Leblanc, and thus effectively shared a schedule.)  
  
Three became five when the lock clicked in Ann’s door.  
  
“We’re home!” Makoto called, kicking off her shoes.  
  
“And we brought snacks!” Shiho announced beside her.  
  
“Welcome back!” Ann squealed, still fighting back a giggle fit while lying on the carpet.  
  
Makoto stepped inside, her arms laden with bags full of Pocky and Hello Panda.  
  
“It’s freezing in here…” Makoto muttered, glancing at Ann. “Why are you on the floor?” Her eyes flicked to Ryuji. “Why are you shirtless?’  
  
Ryuji sat up on the couch, nudging a reluctant Akira aside.  
  
“I dunno what you’re talking about, Makoto. It’s hot in here,” Ryuji flexed and kissed his own bicep. “Must be me.”  
  
Makoto rolled her eyes. “Since when were you such a narcissist?”  
  
“It’s only because _I’m_ here,” Akira teased.  
  
“Oh,” Makoto gave a knowing nod, “so this is just a macho staking-your-claim thing. I see.”  
  
Ryuji sighed, lowering his arm. “Okay, now I feel bad, ‘cuz you’re making me sound like a real douche.”  
  
“If you wanted me all to yourself,” Akira smirked, “you should have just bought me a collar.”  
  
“F-Fuck off!” Ryuji sputtered.  
  
“Well, _I_ think you look nice,” Shiho said sweetly, a hand nonetheless over her mouth to hide her giggling.  
  
“ _Thank you_ , Shiho,” Ryuji grinned. “See, Shiho gets me!”  
  
Makoto and Shiho shrugged their convenience store bounty onto Ann’s coffee table, Makoto shooting a disdainful glare at the A/C unit in the corner.  
  
“ _Must_ we have the air conditioning on?” Makoto sighed. “It’s still spring.”  
  
“These two are always hot,” Akira said.  
  
“Damn right!” Ann said. She and Ryuji high-fived.  
  
“Come sit with us, Makoto,” Akira offered. “Ryuji’s literally so hot he’s fogging up my glasses. He’s like a damn space heater.”  
  
“Thank you, but I prefer mine,” Makoto said, matter-of-factly, before squealing in surprise as Ann pulled her onto the floor. Makoto’s composure crumbled as Ann curled her arms around her waist and peppered her face with kisses, the two of them giggling madly all the while.  
  
“Gaaaaaaaaaaaay!” Ryuji called out, his hands around his mouth. Shiho thumped him on the head.  
  
Ryuji clutched his chest in horror.  
  
“Shiho’s… _betrayed_ me…!”  
  
Ryuji ‘passed out’ on the couch, a bemused Akira shaking his head. He looked up and caught Shiho’s eyes. They exchanged wordless smiles, Shiho joining Ann and Makoto in their cuddle pile on the floor- cautiously, as Makoto and Ann, in moments of affection, were both prone to flailing.  
  
“I can’t believe Ryuji’s fucking dead,” Akira muttered. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands, looking down at the tangle of limbs and giggle fits on the floor with the utmost fondness.  
  
“So!” Akira began, knowing full well how trite this was going to sound. “How have you guys been?”  
  
~*~  
  
The night ambled along at a languid pace, an island of serenity among their sea of hectic weeks. Ann’s life was a mad dash from audition to audition, with photo shoots and interviews somehow packed in between. Makoto’s life was an enormous workload precariously contained by her neat and tidy schedule, which made her appreciate scheduled stress-relief like tonight. And Shiho was a nursing student, which spoke for itself.  
  
Meanwhile, Akira and Ryuji were more or less running Cafe Leblanc, under Sojiro’s supervision. Rumor had it that Sojiro was planning on officially giving it to Akira one day.  
  
(“He’ll never do it,” Futaba had said, when she first heard about it.  
  
“Why?” Akira asked. “Because it would mean admitting he’s getting old?”  
  
“No,” Futaba had said. “It would mean admitting that he loves you.”)  
  
Working at Leblanc was… okay, it was kind of tedious. But the company made it worth it. Ryuji was determined to make himself more of a ‘work hard, play hard’ kind of guy. So he’d follow Sojiro’s instructions, and give his all to running the sleepy little cafe- because as soon as they closed up and he was off the clock, it was time for _shenanigans_ .  
  
“So there we were,” Ryuji was saying, while Akira lay across his lap, to a bemused Makoto, an enthralled Ann, and Shiho, stifling giggles with a hand over her mouth.  
  
“So my foot’s just totally stuck in this cabinet, right?” Ryuji continued. “I’m freaking out, Akira’s pulling his gloves off, and I’ve still got half a plate of meatballs-”  
  
“You’re kidding!” Ann cried. “What, nobody _saw_ you?”  
  
“Oh, they saw us,” Akira snorted.  
  
“Anyway,” Ryuji grinned. “That’s, uh… that’s how the two of us got banned from IKEA.”  
  
“You two are ridiculous,” Makoto said, shaking her head with a weary fondness.  
  
“You love it,” Ann chimed in.  
  
“I do,” Makoto admitted. And she did love them, like one might love a puppy- one who knocks over a flowerpot, but still sits there in the dirt and broken ceramic and smiles at you when you get home.  
  
“Hey, the only reason we got kicked out is ‘cuz of this guy,” Ryuji said, ruffling Akira’s hair. “It’s like flipping a switch with him. One second, he’s all cool and suave and shit. The next, he’s some kinda sex maniac.”  
  
Makoto and Shiho exchanged glances.  
  
“That sounds like you,” they said together, and laughed.  
  
Makoto’s phone chirped. She reached towards the coffee table, making grabby motions, but Ann still had her arms around Makoto’s waist and just wouldn’t let her go. Shiho smiled and obligingly retrieved Makoto’s phone for her.  
  
“ _Thank you_ , Shiho,” Makoto said.  
  
“It’s so hard to move when there’s a cat on top of you,” Shiho smiled.  
  
“I hear that,” Ryuji agreed.  
  
Makoto checked her phone. She rolled her eyes.  
  
“I’m not sure what Futaba _thinks_ we’re doing tonight,” Makoto held up her phone, “but it is, once again, zero days since Futaba has asked one of us to send nudes.”  
  
“Geez. That girl’s dying of thirst,” Ryuji muttered.  
  
“If only she had someone to keep her company…” Ann mused.  
  
Akira suddenly realized everyone was looking at him. He sat up sharply, glowering at the group.  
  
“Okay, don’t you give me that. That’s my baby sister.”  
  
“She’s not a baby,” Shiho said innocently, though Akira could feel the smile in her eyes. “She’s a _woman_ , now. She has needs.”  
  
“You know what? You’re absolutely right,” Akira clapped a hand on Ryuji’s shoulder. “Ryuji. It’s all up to you.”  
  
“What?!” Ryuji sputtered. “Dude, no! She’s like _my_ little sister! Besides, I’m pretty sure she likes girls. _You’re_ the only exception.”  
  
“Ughhhhh,” Akira groaned in despair, leaning back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “Why does it have to be _me_ , though?”  
  
“It’s because you’re so beautiful,” Makoto teased. “In Futaba’s words, you’re the reason she’s still a solid five on the Kinsey scale.”  
  
“I’m _flattered_ ,” Akira sighed.  
  
“Aww, Futaba loves you, though,” Ann smiled. “Isn’t that a good thing?”  
  
“Sure,” Akira shrugged. “I just wish she wasn’t so eager to jump on my dick.”  
  
“Yeah,” Shiho said innocently. “That seat’s taken.”  
  
Akira and Makoto stared at Shiho while Ann and Ryuji burst into ugly laughter. Shiho kept a straight face for as long as she could, before clapping a hand over her mouth and dissolving into giggles.  
  
“Wow,” Makoto said flatly. She reached over and lay a hand in Shiho’s hair.  
  
Akira just shook his head.  
  
“...I guess I do feel a little bad,” Akira shrugged. “Here we are, having a good time, while Futaba’s stuck at home with Totoro…”  
  
“Huh?” Makoto looked up.  
  
“What, I never told you that story?” Akira asked. “A few weeks ago, the carnival was in town…”  
  
~*~  
  
This was, in hindsight, not one of Akira’s best ideas.  
  
There were plenty of things to be said about the carnival- the food, the rides, the games, the spectacle. But all those things came at a cost. Literally, in the case of fair food, where Akira wound up paying 2000 yen for a single order of takoyaki. But figuratively, there was the social cost, of the noise, and the crowds.  
  
“It’s _loud_ ,” Futaba grumbled, clinging to Akira’s arm.  
  
“I know,” he said.  
  
“And there’s _people_ .”  
  
“I _know_ .”  
  
Akira sighed. He reached over and held his hand, palm down, just above Futaba’s head. She leaned up into the touch.  
  
“I’m sorry, bug. So far, the best thing about tonight’s just been overpriced takoyaki.”  
  
Futaba sighed, nuzzling Akira’s shoulder.  
  
“...I wouldn’t say that,” she muttered, her voice swallowed up by the crowd.  
  
“One more game,” Akira said gently. “Then we’ll call it a night.”  
  
They arrived in front of a shooting gallery, a number of air rifles chained to the counter.  
  
“Welcome, welcome!” The barker said, clapping her hands together and gesturing to the wall of targets behind her. “Three of these cans gets you a little kitty cat, five of them a big plush dog. But if you get all six of these little guys…” She gestured to a line of little human silhouettes in a row on the farthest shelf. “...you get to walk off with the big, cuddly nature spirit.”  
  
“Holy shit that’s a Totoro plush chair!” Futaba squealed. She looked up at Akira, eyes fierce. “ _I need it_ .”  
  
The barker smiled and placed a tin of airsoft pellets on the counter.  
  
“Six shots for 500 yen,” she said. “What do you say, hotshot?”  
  
“Gimme that,” Futaba said, loading her air rifle while Akira obligingly dug some bills out of his wallet.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Akira had amassed a sizable collection of plush kittens, while Futaba was stamping her feet in frustration and coming up with increasingly colorful acts of violence she was going to inflict upon the line of targets on the far shelf.  
  
“One more!” Futaba cried. “I’m so close! Just one more!”  
  
“Maybe you should calm down,” Akira said gently.  
  
“What, you think this is easy?!” Futaba hissed. “You try it, then!”  
  
Akira sighed and handed the barker another 1000-yen bill. He loaded his rifle, took aim-  
  
His shot went wide and smacked off the side of the far target casing. Futaba gave him a smug look.  
  
“Not so easy, huh?”  
  
Akira’s second shot struck the bottom of a pile of tin cans, sending five of them tumbling off the shelf. Futaba glowered at him as the barker nodded her approval and handed over a big plush golden retriever.  
  
“Hello, pupper,” Akira said, hefting it over his shoulder. “Oh man, Ryuji’s gonna love this.”  
  
“Hey!” Futaba complained. “Why didn’t you win _me_ anything?”  
  
“What?” Akira huffed, defensive. “I got you all these cats!”  
  
“As if our house needs any more cats,” Futaba grumbled. “You always do this!”  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“You never think about what _I_ want!”  
  
“What?!”  
  
Akira noticed the looks people were giving them in passing. He took a deep breath and sighed.  
  
“...I’m sorry, Futaba. Let’s give it another shot.”  
  
“Okay…” Futaba pouted. She nuzzled into Akira’s arm as he loaded his next shot and sighted down at the far target line.  
  
“Aww,” the barker smiled, crossing her arms. “How long have you two been dating?”  
  
Futaba crowed in triumph. Akira sputtered, his first shot going wide.  
  
“We’re not-! Aw, fuck,” Akira groaned. His next five shots hit their marks, but unlike the stacked piles of tin cans, he wasn’t going to get more than one hit per shot.  
  
“Sorry,” the barker said.  
  
“It’s okay,” Akira sighed. “We hear that all the time…”  
  
“No, I mean, sorry, you need all six to get Totoro here.”  
  
“...Right.”  
  
“C’mon, one more!” Futaba grinned. “We almost had it!”  
  
“Alright, alright…” Akira said, pulling out his wallet.  
  
He blinked. He was out of cash _already_ ? How long had they been at this stand?  
  
“Want to give it another shot?” The barker asked innocently, smiling at her newest pair of cash cows.  
  
“Uh.” Akira blinked, patting his pockets. “Just, uh. Just give me one second.”  
  
“Akira?”  
  
Akira looked up. There was a boy staring at him from the crowd, a boy who looked oddly familiar to someone he’d met during his first year in Tokyo. A little older, now, a little taller… but still wearing that unmistakable ‘GET SMOKED’ cap.  
  
“Shinya?” Akira asked. “What are you doing here? How’ve you been?”  
  
Shinya shrugged. “Just checking out the fair. Same old, same old.”  
  
“It’s good to see you,” Akira said. He nudged Futaba forward. “Shinya, this is Futaba, my-”  
  
“Date,” Futaba coughed.  
  
“ _Sister_ ,” Akira said sharply. Futaba glowered up at him. He bonked his forehead against hers, and she squeaked.  
  
“Listen, Shinya,” Akira began. “Could you actually do me a small favor…?”  
  
In the end, they’d made a trade- a bag full to bursting with little plush kittens, in exchange for the giant plush Totoro that Shinya had won on his very first attempt. Akira waved goodbye and then disappeared into the crowd with Futaba, who was cackling with triumph and glee. .  
  
Shinya watched them go, a strange, fluttering feeling in his chest.  
  
With the look of sheer joy on Futaba’s face, he would have happily given it for free.  
  
~*~  
  
“...and that’s how I spent, like, 20,000 yen at the carnival,” Akira concluded.  
  
“Aww, man!” Ryuji whined. “ _I_ want a giant Totoro plush chair!”  
  
“I got you a dog,” Akira chided.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Makoto cut in, “I’m still processing how you apparently learned all your marksmanship from a grade-schooler who spent too much time at the arcade.”  
  
“Whatever works,” Akira shrugged.  
  
“Did you keep any of those little cats?” Ann asked.  
  
“Yeah, actually,” Akira said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. A tiny plush kitten was hanging from the strap.  
  
All three girls audibly gasped and clutched their chests.  
  
“It’s so little!” Shiho squeaked.  
  
“I love him!” Makoto cooed.  
  
“I can’t believe I’m in love with these dorks,” Ann rolled her eyes, snaking her arms around Makoto and Shiho’s waists and squeezing them affectionately. She glanced up at Akira, her voice low. “You, um… you don’t have any extra, do you?”  
  
Akira grinned. “I can check.”  
  
“So, that’s pretty much it for us,” Ryuji shrugged. “Unless you wanna hear about our cafe regulars. What’s up with you guys? Got anything juicy?”  
  
“‘Juicy’?” Ann made a face. “What does that even mean?”  
  
“He wants to know if you have any stories about sex,” Akira said flatly.  
  
“Wow,” Makoto said.  
  
“Wh- Dude!” Ryuji groaned. “Do you have to make me sound like such a perv?”  
  
“I have a story!” Shiho announced, raising her hand.  
  
Ryuji blushed immediately and looked away, Akira squirming slightly.  
  
“...Oh, it’s… it’s not a sex story,” Shiho continued, sheepish. “But, um, I _did_ find out recently that Haru goes to my school.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Akira asked, leaning forward.  
  
“Mm-hmm,” Shiho nodded. “Do you remember that weird, like, three-day heat wave we had a few weeks back? That’s when I first saw her…”  
  
~*~  
  
Every introvert has their sanctuary.  
  
It’s usually their own room. But sometimes it’s a bathroom, a closet, a stairwell… anywhere you can get away from the noise and weight of other people and just have a moment to breathe.  
  
For Shiho, her on-campus sanctuary was the school roof.  
  
Unfortunately, Tokyo was in the middle of an unexpected heat wave, so the school roof was quickly becoming an oven.  
  
Shiho lingered in the feeble shade of an awning, choosing the oppressive heat over the oppressive weight of being around too many people. She pressed a mercifully cool water bottle against her forehead, swiping an arm across her brow and taking a sip.  
  
There were planters on the roof. Flowers sat in neat rows, baking in the relentless sun. Shiho studied their wilting forms, frowning. She stepped out from under the awning, hissing as the sunlight struck her.  
  
“Ohhhhhhh I regret this,” Shiho murmured, leaving the shade behind and crouching by the planters. She lifted up a leaf- it crinkled like paper beneath her hand.  
  
“You poor things,” Shiho cooed. She uncapped her water bottle. “Here. Let’s share.”  
  
Shiho’s compassion overcame her discomfort- but only for a little while. After a few moments of watering the flowers, Shiho became painfully aware of the sun on her pale skin, and the aura of oppressive heat trapped in her long, dark hair. She tugged at her collar, fanning herself in the heat.  
  
“Shi-chan? Is that you?”  
  
Shiho had scarcely a moment to register a second person on the roof before Haru took her by the wrist and all-but dragged her back beneath the awning, fussing all the while.  
  
“Haru? What are you doing here?” Shiho asked, while Haru rummaged through her bag.  
  
“Wishing I had a nice hat to go with your dress,” Haru beamed. “But I suppose sunscreen will have to do.”  
  
They talked while Haru watered the plants, and long after she’d finished, besides. It turns out the university had allowed her to keep planters on the roof, just like at Shujin. Haru was here pursuing a degree in hotel and restaurant management- a wholly different set of courses from Shiho’s save for one, a Nutrition class, which they were both taking, albeit with different professors. It was simple enough to make room in both their schedules so they could see each other, study, and tend the rooftop garden together.  
  
Being with Haru was… entrancing. There was just something about her- many things, actually. The warmth, even reverence, in her voice when she spoke about gardening, speaking of raising life from the earth as if it were something out of myth and legend; the sweet, simple affection she put into her little pet names for everyone, including the utter adoration with which she spoke about ‘Mako-chan’; the way the light seemed to catch in her hair and settle there, framing her face with a fluffy, radiant glow.  
  
Haru radiated light and warmth in a way like, and yet unlike, Ann. If Ann was a blazing fire, then Haru was a hearth.  
  
And when Shiho told her as much, in as many words, the look of joy on Haru’s face was downright blinding.  
  
“Oh, Shi-chan, you’re such a _sweetheart_ ,” Haru cooed, her voice pricking Shiho’s heart like a fishhook. “Maybe we should get out of the sun, before you start saying anything too sweet to handle.”  
  
They got up and started packing away Haru’s gardening tools. Shiho was done with class for today, and she was looking forward to Ann, to Makoto, to air conditioning, to _home_ , but she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the sweltering commute before she got there. And as Haru was busy stowing her watering can in a small shed in the corner of the roof space, Shiho’s eyes lingered on the metal sink beside her.  
  
“Haru?” Shiho called.  
  
“Yes?” Haru was a ball of fluff poking out of the tool shed.  
  
“Do you mind if I…?”  
  
“Go on,” Haru smiled.  
  
Shiho turned on the faucet with a creak of metal and dunked her head in. The water was blissfully cool.  
  
Haru watched her as Shiho pulled her head out from under the water and flipped her hair, water spraying every which way. A strange feeling flickered across Haru’s chest- a feeling not unlike, for whatever reason, the feeling that had snagged her heart the first time she’d seen Akira somersault onto a Shadow’s shoulders with a manic grin and tear the mask from its face.  
  
The circumstances couldn’t have been more different, and yet… and yet…  
  
“Sorry,” Shiho giggled, embarrassed, dripping water onto the roof.  
  
“Oh,” Haru breathed, feeling flushed, with a warmth in her cheeks that wasn’t sunlight at all.  
  
~*~  
  
“...and then I kinda felt bad, because I got water all over her,” Shiho laughed. “She didn’t seem to mind, though. We’ve been meeting up on campus ever since. She’s so easy to talk to. It was like something out of a fairy tale, or a shoujo manga. She’s just so… _dreamy_ .”  
  
“Shiho,” Ann said sternly, placing a hand on Shiho’s shoulder. “Honey. That’s _really_ gay.”  
  
“We just _talked_ ,” Shiho said, rolling her eyes.  
  
“Well, yeah, talking’s how it starts,” Ryuji nodded, “but then sooner or later, it’s… y’know... “  
  
Ryuji turned to Akira and mimed a loud, sloppy kiss. Makoto rolled her eyes and thumped Ryuji on the head.  
  
“Why is it never him?!” Ryuji whined.  
  
“Don’t listen to him, Shiho,” Makoto shrugged, matter-of-fact. “For what it’s worth, how it _actually_ starts is Haru refusing to let you pay for anything while she’s around, and it _ends_ with an engraved collar on a hook in her bedroom closet.” Makoto smiled. “I think you’d wear it well.”  
  
“Mako!” Shiho hissed, turning beet-red. “Don’t _say_ that!”  
  
“No no no, I want to hear this,” Akira cut in.  
  
“You interested in a collar, Akira?” Makoto smiled.  
  
“I mean, if Ryuji’s gonna drag his feet…”  
  
“ _Dude!_ ”  
  
“Alright, alright!” Ann said, above the din. “Settle down, guys. And settle in, because now it’s _my_ turn to tell a story. This time, the topic is _first kisses_ .”  
  
“Oooooooh,” Shiho and Ryuji said, obligingly.  
  
“Oh, this ought to be good,” Akira leaned forward, eager.  
  
Ann took Makoto’s hand and squeezed, asking with her eyes. Makoto nodded.  
  
“Alright,” Ann grinned, “here’s how it happened…”  
  
~*~  
  
There are two key components of a proper kabedon: fear, and arousal.  
  
~*~  
  
“I don’t like where this is going,” Makoto said flatly.  
  
“I haven’t even started yet!” Ann huffed.  
  
“Alright, alright…” Makoto raised a hand peaceably.  
  
“Oh man, oh man,” Ryuji grinned. “You pushed her against the wall?”  
  
“Better,” Ann returned his grin. “ _She_ pushed _me_ .”  
  
~*~  
  
Like Ann was saying, there are two key components to a proper kabedon: fear, and arousal.  
  
When Makoto stopped her in the hallway that day, Ann had plenty of both to spare.  
  
The kabedon, ‘kabe’ meaning wall and ‘don’ being the thud of one’s hand against it, is a potent weapon in any ladykiller’s arsenal. Done poorly, it’s an excellent way to get pepper sprayed in the face. But done well, it’s a sight to behold.  
  
Picture it. The young woman, riding the razor’s edge between fear and excitement, her back against the wall. Her suitor, slamming a hand to the wall beside her, penning her in with their body, a rakish grin on their lips…  
  
Makoto certainly got points for technique. Unfortunately, Makoto was shorter than her, so Ann obligingly ducked down a little bit, so Makoto could loom over her in all her glory.  
  
“Oh, Makoto,” Ann said, breathless. “This is so sudden…”  
  
Makoto walked her fingers up Ann’s arm, Ann squirming beneath her electrifying touch. Ann tried to look away. Makoto caught her by the chin and snapped her back to attention, eliciting a sharp gasp. Makoto’s eyes were a vivid red, almost as red as her lips…  
  
“Ann,” Makoto said, her voice low. “I want you.”  
  
Ann shivered. “Here? Now? B-But Makoto, I… I had no idea you felt this way! I always looked up to you, of course, but… I thought, maybe… you saw me like a younger sister.”  
  
“Relax,” Makoto said, in a voice that ensured Ann could do anything but. “I don’t do _this_ with my sister…”  
  
~*~  
  
“That is _not_ what I said!” Makoto insisted, while Ann choked back snickers beside her. “That is _not_ how it happened!”  
  
Shiho had both hands over her mouth, vibrating with laughter, while Akira and Ryuji were gone- they were doubled over on the couch, rolling and slapping their knees.  
  
“Mako,” Shiho giggled, “what on Earth would Sae say if she knew you used a line like _that_ ?”  
  
Makoto buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath, sighed, and then pulled Ann onto her lap. She curled her arms around Ann’s waist, pouting into the back of Ann’s neck.  
  
“This is a punishment hug,” Makoto muttered. “You don’t get to enjoy this.”  
  
“Sorry,” Ann murmured, sheepish. “But ‘we kissed at my house, after dinner, after a lengthy discussion about open relationships with Shiho over Skype’ doesn’t make for much of a story.”  
  
“Important question.” Akira said, raising his hand. “So, uh, did Shiho _watch_ you two have your first kiss?’  
  
“ _No_ ,” Ann rolled her eyes. “She turned off her webcam, like a polite person. Right, Shiho?”  
  
Akira’s gaze snapped to Shiho. She shrugged, sheepish.  
  
“...I _was_ pretty tempted not to,” Shiho admitted. “So, um, what were _your_ first kisses?”  
  
“Like, in general, or within the group?” Ryuji asked.  
  
“Either.”  
  
“Well, with this guy,” Ryuji nodded towards Akira, “this is gonna sound bad, but I don’t really remember much of it? Like, we were in Mementos, and we didn’t stop at kissing-”  
  
“You were in Mementos?!” Makoto balked.  
  
“You didn’t stop at kissing?” Shiho gasped.  
  
“When the hell was this?!” Ann demanded.  
  
“Okay, wow, I didn’t interrogate _you guys_ when you were busy pushing each other against walls!” Ryuji said, defensive. “I told you, it’s like flipping a switch with him! First he’s all normal, and then he… y’know… _escalates_ !”  
  
“Is _that_ what he calls it?” Ann muttered. Ryuji chucked a throw pillow at her head.  
  
“Who was your first kiss, Akira?” Shiho asked, gently, before the night devolved into a pillow fight.  
  
“It was a girl from my hometown,” Akira shrugged. “None of you guys know her. We still talk, sometimes. She runs this, like, micro-fiction poetry blog. Poems in 140 characters or less.”  
  
“Was she a beautiful, but tragic, brooding artist?” Ann wondered.  
  
“Who writes poetry on Twitter?” Makoto asked, dubious.  
  
“It’s micro-fiction, and it’s a thing,” Akira said. He noticed the odd look Ryuji was giving him. “...What?”  
  
Ryuji suddenly felt everyone’s eyes on him. “Huh? Oh, it’s… it’s stupid. It’s nothing.”  
  
“No. What is it?”  
  
Ryuji sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, I was just, uh… I was just hoping that I was your first.”  
  
“Oh.” Akira blinked. “Sorry.”  
  
“Ryuji…” Ann said gently, reaching up and laying a hand on his knee. “...that’s really gay.”  
  
“Oh, fuck off,” Ryuji swatted Ann’s hand away, his good humor returning. “At least I was your first kiss out of the Phantom Thieves, right? Right?”  
  
Akira squirmed. “...Well…”  
  
“Oh, for- Was it Ann?!”  
  
“...It was Yusuke.”  
  
“ _For real?!_ ”  
  
“We were in a rowboat!” Akira said, defensive. “It was really romantic! I don’t know, it just… sort of… happened!”  
  
“ _IT JUST??? SORT OF??? HAPPENED?!?!_ ”  
  
Ryuji folded his arms across his chest and pouted like no tomorrow. After a moment, though, he found himself leaning against Akira, despite everything. Akira smiled, trailing his fingers through Ryuji’s hair.  
  
“This is a grumpy cuddle,” Ryuji pouted. “You don’t get to enjoy this.”  
  
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Akira teased.  
  
“ _I_ have a story,” Makoto said, raising her hand. “Do you guys remember when Ann was doing that run-through of a scene she had coming up?”  
  
“How can I forget?” Akira muttered, massaging his chest. “You shot me!”  
  
“I’m still sorry about that,” Makoto winced. “This is about something that happened later that night.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Akira and Ryuji both leaned forward, intrigued. Warmth blossomed across Makoto’s cheeks. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  
  
“That night…” Makoto said, feeling the flutter in her chest. “...Shiho and I kissed.”  
  
There was a pause, as if Makoto was waiting for them all to break out laughing. Ryuji blinked.  
  
“...And…?”  
  
“We were both with Ann at the time, obviously,” Makoto barreled on, cringing at her own confession. “It was in the heat of the moment! It just happened!”  
  
“That’s… not that embarrassing,” Akira said.  
  
“Yeah, it’s actually kinda sweet,” Ryuji offered.  
  
“Mako, I thought you were going to tell them something juicier than that,” Shiho said. “Like how you like to be called ‘Officer Niijima’, or how Ann’s a screamer.”  
  
“WHAT?! **_SHIHO!!!_ ** ” Ann screamed.  
  
“Yeah, just like that!” Shiho chirped, before squealing with laughter as Ann pounced on her with reprisal tickles.  
  
Akira smiled, bemused, as Ryuji broke down into ‘I knew it’ laughter beside him. Makoto looked up at him, catching his eyes.  
  
“Only Shiho can make Ann sound like _that_ ,” Makoto said, smiling.  
  
“I wouldn’t say it’s just her,” Akira grinned. “ _Officer_ .”  
  
Makoto just shook her head and punched Akira in the chest. It was a playful punch, by Makoto’s standards, but it hit him right where she’d shot him, the other week, and it stung much more than the airsoft pellet did.  
  
~*~  
  
The night ambled along at its own pace. As things began quieting down, they moved the coffee table and just got comfortable on the carpeted floor, all five of them together. They lay there, tangled up in each other, clinging to waists and arms, nuzzling throats, some of them dozing off, others gazing up at Ann’s ceiling as if they could see the stars.  
  
“You guys ever think of getting married?” Ryuji asked, out of the blue, Ann’s legs across his lap.  
  
“It’d be a nice tax break, if nothing else,” Makoto shrugged, her hands in Shiho’s hair.  
  
“They’d have to legalize it, first,” Akira said, his head on Ryuji’s stomach, his knuckles brushing against Makoto’s cheek.  
  
“Nah, you’d just have to get creative,” Ryuji explained. “We gotta have decoy weddings. Me and Ann can go first.”

“Aww, Ryuji, you’d be my beard?” Ann cooed.  
  
“I don’t know what that means,” Ryuji admitted.  
  
“You two are the reason you’re both still solid fives on the Kinsey scale,” Makoto muttered.  
  
“Hell yeah!” Ann and Ryuji high-fived, awkwardly, what with them both lying down.  
  
“Ann and Ryuji getting married is plausible enough,” Akira said. “But what about me and Shiho?”  
  
“What about _my_ tax break?” Makoto teased.  
  
“They just need to see us holding hands while we’re both reading different books,” Shiho chimed in. “We’ll be introverts in love!”  
  
“You mean like what we do, Shiho?” Makoto purred.  
  
“Are you saying you’re in love with me, Mako?” Shiho smiled.  
  
Makoto shrugged. “Give it time,” she smiled.  
  
“Get a room,” Ann teased.  
  
“Hold on, so then who’s marrying Yusuke?” Akira asked.

“ _There’s_ a beard if I ever saw one,” Makoto murmured.  
  
“So you’re volunteering, huh, Mako?” Ann asked.  
  
“I say me or Futaba,” Makoto shrugged.  
  
“Oh, but what about Haru?” Shiho asked.  
  
“Haru can afford to pay taxes,” Ryuji grinned.  
  
A comfortable quiet settled over them, and they savored it. Until:  
  
“How come you’re not dating more of us, Akira?” Ann asked.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“You told us, straight up, that you had feelings for pretty much all of us, but you only really went the distance with Ryuji.”  
  
“That’s because I’m his _favorite_ ,” Ryuji grinned.  
  
“Hey, come on,” Akira chided. “It’s not about playing favorites.”  
  
“Then what is it, then?” Makoto asked.  
  
Akira sighed wistfully, gazing up at Ann’s ceiling- blurry, because he’d taken his glasses off.  
  
“I don’t know,” Akira whispered. “I love you guys. But more than that, I love seeing you love each other. Watching everybody explore their relationships, figuring out where you stand, re-evaluating and rediscovering your feelings for each other… I dunno, I _live_ for that kind of stuff.”  
  
Warm quiet in the wake of Akira’s confession. And then:  
  
“So what you’re saying is, you like to watch,” Shiho said.  
  
Akira slapped a palm against his forehead while Ryuji and Ann snickered beside him.  
  
“...Yes, Shiho. That’s the takeaway.”  
  
Makoto poked at her phone, nuzzling Akira’s fingers and feeling Shiho’s comforting weight curled up against her shoulder. Makoto’s lips curled into a quizzical frown.  
  
“Hey, everyone,” Makoto began. “I want to know what you guys make of this. Hifumi just texted me-”  
  
“Time out,” Ann said. “Since when are you on a first-name basis with renowned professional shogi-player Hifumi Togo?”  
  
“Since I found out she goes to my university, shut up,” Makoto teased. “Like I was saying, Hifumi just texted me a single smiley-face emoji. I text her back a single question mark. She responds, ‘Sorry, I took some NyQuil and now I’m mildly delirious.’”  
  
“That’s not that weird,” Akira shrugged. “If you _really_ wanna see someone fucked up on NyQuil, there was this one time-”  
  
“No no no, hold on,” Makoto said. “Because I just checked her Twitter, right?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“And it turns out,” Makoto smiled. “Right before she texted me that smiley-face, she had just retweeted a post that read ‘drunk text your crush because life is short’.”  
  
“OOOOOOOH!!!” Shiho and Ryuji exploded.  
  
“That’s an in,” Ann nodded vigorously. “That’s a super green-light.”  
  
“She wants your body,” Akira said, deadpan.  
  
“Get it, girl!” Ann squealed.  
  
Makoto smiled, embarrassed, laying her phone on her chest.  
  
“...So, yeah, I just… wanted to see if I should read into that, or not.”  
  
~*~  
  
_Meanwhile…_  
  
~*~  
  
**_A bug’s life_ ** _: THIS IS SOME BULLSHIT_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: What’s wrong, Futaba?_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: My stupid brother is having a stupid sleepover with all his stupidly attractive friends_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: And here I am, just trying to get my weeklies in_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: But nooooooo, Hifumi can’t even show up for raid night_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: And we get stuck with a White Mage who SPENDS THE WHOLE FIGHT IN CLERIC UGH_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: Futaba_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: I hate dealing with PUGs!_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: It wasn’t all bad_ _  
_ **_  
_ ** **_A bug’s life_ ** _sent a picture._ _  
_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: you’re right. At least I have Totoro._ **_  
_ ** **_Kana Chameleon:_ ** _Where is he?_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: I’m sitting on him._ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: Oh! Futaba, those socks are so cute on you!_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: thanks Kana_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: sorry tonight was a bust_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: It’s not the same without Hifumi._ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: Well, um_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: I had fun tonight_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: really???_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: we didn’t even get our daily bonus!_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: I still had fun_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: I was with you :)_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: oh, um_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: I had fun too, obvs_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: that got weirdly sentimental, idk_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: :)_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: :)_ _  
_ _  
_ **_Henshin-a-Togo_ ** _is now online._ _  
_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: where the hell were you, miss Raid Leader????_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: you better have a damn good explanation and an even better apology_ _  
_ **_Henshin-a-Togo_ ** _: :)_

 ** _Henshin-a-Togo_ ** _sent a picture._

 **_Henshin-a-Togo_ ** _: :)_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: WH_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: oh!_ _  
_ **_Kana Chameleon_ ** _: should I be here for this?!_ _  
_ **_Henshin-a-Togo_ ** _: ;)_ _  
_ **_A bug’s life_ ** _: HIFUMI WHAT THE FUCK_ _  
_  
~*~  
  
Akira stifled a yawn, letting out a content sigh. He reached across the cuddle pile, resting a hand on Ann’s hair. She nuzzled into his touch, like a cat.  
  
“Ann,” Akira whispered.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“We gotta do this again.”  
  
“We will,” Ann grinned sleepily. “Next Saturday. Save the date!”  
  
“It’s not a _date_ ,” Ryuji muttered.  
  
“That doesn’t make sense,” Shiho murmured sweetly. Makoto pulled her closer and wordlessly pressed a kiss to the part in her hair.  
  
Akira’s phone buzzed just as he was starting to doze off. He sighed.  
  
“Who can _that_ be…?” He wondered. “Hello?”  
  
“ _AKIRA!!!_ ” Akira recoiled as Futaba screeched across the line.  
  
Ryuji snickered. “I bet that’s not the first time she’s screamed your- ow! Ow!”  
  
Akira thumped him again, for good measure. “What’s up, bug?”  
  
“ _You’re not gonna believe this shit!_ ”  
  
“Did somebody actually send nudes?” Akira drawled.  
  
“ _YES!!!_ ”

  
“What the fuck? Who?”  
  
Akira’s phone chimed. He caught a split-second glance of dark hair and creamy, pale skin before he slapped his phone face-down on the floor.  
  
“Whoa!” Akira recoiled, the others stirring around him. “ _Hello_ , Hifumi!”  
  
“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Ryuji darted up, Ann right beside him. “Let me see!”  
  
“ _I TOLD YOU IT WOULD HAPPEN EVENTUALLY!_ ” Futaba cackled in triumph, still on the line.  
  
“Hey, hey, I wanna see!” Ann clamored.  
  
“No, no, no!” Akira said, flustered. “It wasn’t meant for us! I gotta delete it!”  
  
“Aw, c’mon!” Ryuji whined.  
  
“ _WAIT!_ ”  
  
Akira blinked. He, Ryuji and Ann all turned to look at Makoto, fidgeting, her cheeks slowly turning almost the same shade of red as her eyes.  
  
“...Can… um…” Makoto stammered, sheepish. “...can… can I see it…?”  
  
~*~

**Author's Note:**

> For any of you curious as to my MMO headcanons: Futaba, Kana, and Hifumi play Final Fantasy XIV. (Somehow, before the job system overhaul.) Futaba mains Black Mage. Kana mains Ninja. Hifumi mains Scholar, because of course she would. 
> 
> There was a scene cut for pacing that would've had the quintet discussing 'their songs'. For those curious, I chose "Paris" by The Chainsmokers for Akira/Ryuji, "Shove" by Angels & Airwaves for Ann/Makoto, and Billy Joel's "She's Got a Way" for Ann/Shiho. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I'll see you in the next one!


End file.
